


Like moths to flame

by gyunikum



Series: To be bound or be unbound [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Light Worship, part of a planned series of which i have no name for yet, plot if you squint, ship if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 08:23:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20636090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyunikum/pseuds/gyunikum
Summary: High Exarch Yrel and her Lightbound arrive to Azeroth on behest of the Light, to aid the Alliance. Anduin welcomes her.





	Like moths to flame

**Author's Note:**

> ever since learning that anduin had the hots for draenei ladies (ok he was like thirteen but whatever), and ever since the mag'har scenario, i've been thinking of a possible anduin/yrel thing. as far as we know, we've only seen the mag'har orcs' side of the "genocide" and whether its completely true or just some exaggeration (knowing blizzard, this is all we gonna get), i wanted to add something to the entire grayness of the light (i'm loving the fact that the light is not as benevolent as we first were led to believe. adds a lot more layers.) being kinda tyrannical. plus im bummed that blizzard cut 90% of yrel's story which could have resulted in one of wow's most interesting character. 
> 
> oh, who am i kidding. i just wanted anduin to get it with a draenei, and i thought yrel would be the best choice since anduin has the most common with her as far as draenei go.

They expected Anduin to keep her on a short leash—and by _them_, it meant practically everyone from the nobles of the lowest seats of the House up to his fellow leaders of the Alliance. Except for Velen and Turalyon who vouched for her unconditionally; of course they would, as it had been their idea to contact Draenor.

_“Shadows grow darker each day. We need the Light, now more than ever, to show us the way,”_ Turalyon would say (much to Alleria’s chagrin, but they seemed to have had not spoken to each other for quite some time. It was something Anduin wanted so much to fix, but had no time to spare for).

They had caught a strange, tree-like creature in Ashenvale, studying the nature—it called itself Botani, and hailed from the jungles of Draenor. In exchange for a garden of its own where it could study the nature of Azeroth, the botani creature had told them of the most recent events of Draenor prior to its escape in order to get away from what the Alliance hadn’t known until now. Yes, they’d been aware for a long time of the Mag’har orcs’ presence within the ranks of Horde, their armies clashing on the battlefield on many occasions, but as to _why_, had eluded the SI:7 up till now. All it took was a curious creature who disregarded its calling by nature to infest, and instead, sought knowledge—something a handful of druids would be ready to give (with moderation, of course).

And so the preparations had been made to open the long-dormant portal to Draenor by the Everbloom Cliff that overlooked Stormwind. The Kirin Tor had kept a steady presence there since the unfortunate incursion years ago, but all it took was for Jaina to turn up and say a few words. Anduin saw no sense in warning the Kirin Tor of the Alliance’s plans, seeing as how Khadgar had been absent for many months now—the archmage had been clear on his intention to keep his mages out of the war between the Alliance and the Horde. Though not as experienced at portals as Khadgar, Jaina was able to establish a steady gate between Azeroth and Draenor once again. Turalyon had chosen a contingent of his best Lightforged and Captain Fareeya to venture into Draenor’s known-unknown to establish first contact, bearing a message from Velen himself.

After their campaign on Draenor ended, both the Alliance and the Horde had abandoned all of their outposts and garrisons—they saw no sense in maintaining them any longer, opting to let the structures be manned by the locals. With the closing of the Dark Portal and all other rifts between the two worlds, communication had been severed—for two years on Azeroth, and for many decades on Draenor.

It hadn’t taken much time for Captain Freeya to return with good news. After that, Turalyon himself oversaw the logistics, and before Anduin knew it, he was stepping through a golden portal to Light’s Hope Chapel for the first time in his life, ready to welcome new allies that would hopefully turn the tides and bring a swift end to Sylvanas’ madness. So that they can focus on the real threat.

At first, Anduin had been unwilling to receive the _Lightbound_ – as he’d been informed of their name – in a place where members of the Horde could enter and were known to make their home during the Legion’s third invasion, but he quickly remembered the fact that no longer the Blood Knights nor the Sunwalkers were welcome there any longer. Another casualty of Sylvanas’ transgressions.

When Anduin glanced around the Sanctum of Light, illuminated by a source that calmed his nerves too, for a moment, he imagined various races walking its great halls—in peace, friendships and love blooming between sin’dorei, tauren, draenei, humans and dwarves, flowing freely without the fear that the following week a war would break out and separate them. Friends and lovers forced to face each other because of politics.

This was what Anduin was fighting for, _this peace_, and every moment he spent in there, waiting for his new allies to finally arrive, his determination to fight for this image rose in him with every heartbeat.

Should Sylvanas learn of the arrival of the Lightbound, Anduin did not care—let her clamber to answer the Alliance’s step this time. Anduin was done trying to catch up to her.

It was his time to dictate the pace.

“Attention!” Turalyon bellowed as the mages under Jaina’s command took their stances and began to cast. Arcane power prickled at Anduin’s skin as a small, blinding globe appeared in the air. It quickly swelled into a large arch that enveloped the entire hallway, paladins of the Order of Silver Hand and Lightforged stood at attention in a row at each sides. The portal spell was the fruit of a complicated plan, hatched and delivered by Jaina to forward the portal at Everbloom Cliff straight across the Eastern Kingdoms and directly beneath Light’s Hope Chapel. The candles around flared up with large flames licking at the ceiling, and the bright windows around the cathedral flashed blinding from the surge of raw power.

The Light washed over Anduin’s soul like a tide, each time more powerful, until his heart felt like bursting.

And then _she_ stepped out.

High Exarch Yrel.

She strode towards the dais on which Anduin stood. Her radiant armour dwarfed everything around her, as though from within her core shone the Light itself. Her hooves thundered, searing the plush carpet with glowing fog.

Her eyes bore into Anduin’s without blinking.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Bowed her head and lowered to one knee.

“King Anduin Wrynn of the Alliance of Azeroth,” Yrel spoke, her voice as melodious as a naaru’s. “I, High Exarch Yrel of the Lightbound, am at your service. Dispose of me how you wish.”

Nothing could stand in their way now.

Even after hours, Anduin still could not befriend the sight of brown-skinned orcs and ogres dressed in radiant armour and wielding the light as draenei and humans would. He never thought it possible. The ogres, he found too savage for it, and the orcs had never really been attuned to the Light.

“The Mag’har have priests,” Yrel says. Her hooves clank dully on the path behind the Cathedral. They’ve just exited the building after listening to a sermon given by High Priestess Laurena to welcome the Lightbound to Stormwind. “They twist the Light to do their bidding unconditional—but I understand that such perversions are not exclusive to Draenor.”

Anduin shakes his head, hands clasped behind his back as he walks slowly. The night is warm and quiet, calming him ever further. Not even the guards stationed around every ten metres or so bother him. “There are many—too many. The Scarlet Crusade is a forever taint on a previously revered order. And the Blood Knights of Quel’thalas have had unorthodox practises to force the Light, though they have come a long way. Their relationship now is as peaceful as it can get.”

Yrel hums, melodious. “The Light is as benevolent as the ideals of its wielder. Thus it falls to us to show the proper way for it and others.”

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Anduin smiles.

They make their way to the hanging gardens between the Keep and Olivia’s Pond. The night elves of Teldrassil have taken it upon themselves to establish a park reminiscent of their lost home, and the old Park that Deathwing had destroyed many years ago. Together with shamans and construction workers, they carved terraces into the Elwynn Mountains, and now tall trees, bushes and flowers spill over the edges like an emerald waterfall. Many of the residents find solace there, and even Anduin has taken a liking to wandering the hedge-maze or the small trails on lonely nights.

This evening, the gardens are blessedly deserted. By the budding moonwell sits a couple, bathed in its soft glow and an intimate moment Anduin does not wish to intrude on, and so he steers Yrel towards the stairs leading to the highest terrace way above much of Stormwind’s rooftops.

The Cathedral’s sharp towers rise high into the sky, cutting into the view like a dark blade, and so do some watchtowers, but the view of the entire city and the ocean glinting in the distance is still a sight to behold.

“Beautiful,” Yrel breathes in quiet reverence. She takes long strides to arrive to the overlook, a small balcony jutting out of the terrace to allow undisputed view without trees growing in the way. Anduin follows her slower, leaning against the banister heavily. He’d been wearing his ceremonial armour the entire day, and even though he had donned something lighter for the sermon, he feels the claws of exhaustion grabbing his ankles. Yrel seems as vigorous as the moment she has stepped through the portal, despite only discarding some parts of her plate armour. “Though I have not seen much of her yet, Azeroth is as beautiful as a world can get. It makes me want to protect her—as your heroes helped us protect Draenor.”

Anduin bows his head, sighing deeply. His face burns with shame. “A conflict of which we were to blame for. Had it not been for Azeroth’s meddling, Draenor would have—”

“—Met a worse fate,” Yrel finishes for him. Anduin can not find it in himself to feel even the slightest frustration for having been interrupted. “As I understand—_your_ Draenor blew up, and is now floating towards a fate of breaking apart until the Twisting Nether swallows the last speck of dust. _My_ Draenor is healthy—unified. All thanks to your intervention.”

Anduin blinks at her. He did not think of it this way, but he must admit she has a point.

For long minutes, they stand next to each other enveloped in the full glow of the White Lady, with the Blue Child hiding behind a swath of cloud like a shy son at the sight of strangers. The silence that wraps its tendrils around their core is as comfortable as a plush blanket. Anduin nearly finds himself revering in Yrel’s comforting presence.

Yrel then speaks up.

“I find myself slightly disappointed not to see Khadgar amongst the faces of my welcoming party.”

Anduin sighs. “Many things have changed in such short time.” He takes a moment. “I am loathe to have put him in such a difficult position after all he’s been through for Azeroth. But it is one more reason to stop this senseless war once and for all.”

Yrel nods, determination clear on her smooth face. “Sylvanas Windrunner must fall. My forces and all of Draenor are determined to bring peace and unity to Azeroth, as had your heroes done for us many years ago. I had promised Khadgar I would help his world should the need arise—I just didn’t think it would take so much time, and that he would not be the one to come to me.” She listens for a moment. “Where is he, if I may ask?”

“He does not wish to be disturbed, and we honour his wishes. It is the least we can do for him,” Anduin slightly shakes his head. He misses the Archmage’s counsel. “When he is ready, he will emerge.”

“And my wish is to be here when he does so.”

Anduin turns to the draenei with a smile on his lips. It has been long since he felt such genuine happiness. “You are more than welcome to stay as long as you wish.”

“Thank you, King Wrynn,” Yrel bows her had. Her white hair falls around her face, like a brilliant cascade of light. It glows silver in the moonlight, her horns devoid of its plate ornaments nearly sparkling like precious stones. _She_ is a sight to behold.

“Anduin,” he says quietly. “Call me Anduin.”

When he feels a slight pressure on his fingers resting on the stone banister, his heart trembles under Yrel’s warm touch.

“The Light Mother had told me of this meeting,” Yrel whispers, leaning close to him. Anduin wets his dry lips, staring at Yrel’s face. He cannot take his eyes off her—this creature of Light, a subject of worship. “Granted me a vision of a strange world—a city of brilliant white walls, and by my side—” her breath scorches Anduin’s ear, “a source of light that attracted followers like moths to flame.”

Anduin swallows hard. Is she talking about him?

“She told me,” Yrel continues, turning her head so that her great horns would not touch his face; but the top of her nose does so, grazing his cheekbone ever so slightly, “that I must conjoin her within this light, and together, we shall drive the shadows from every inch of a suffering world.”

Her proximity ignites something hot in his stomach. Something that Anduin has buried a long time ago.

Oh, Light take mercy on him.

Still leaning down so that their eyes are on the same level, Yrel faces him. Lifts a hand with the intention to touch the side of his face, but still he is High King, and it hasn’t even been a full day since she devoted her forces to his cause.

He yearns for her touch.

“Your brilliance radiates across the Great Dark Beyond like a beam of hope—for one day, you shall be my General, and lead our Armies of the Light to victory over the darkness.”

**Author's Note:**

> dunno my endgame with this pairing. but i want to write some juicy parts with them so. stay tuned for a sequel or something.
> 
> as always, find me @gyunikum on twitter if u wanna talk


End file.
